


Who Cares What Anyone Thinks?

by americanhoney913



Series: The Lion and the Dragon [9]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: END THE FEUD, F/F, SummerSlam 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 14:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20211268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913
Summary: This love ain't made for the faint of heartWhen it's love, it's toughThis love ain't made for the faint of heartReal love is tough--- Faint of Heart, Tegan and Sara***SummerSlam 2019





	Who Cares What Anyone Thinks?

**Author's Note:**

> I had hoped to post this before Charlotte and Trish went on, but oh well. 
> 
> This was written before SummerSlam 2k19!

Charlotte’s sitting at her makeup table when someone taps her on the shoulder. She turns around and smiles at Ember Moon, red contacts in and fully decked out as the War Goddess. 

“Hey,” Charlotte smiles, “what’s up?”

“I just wanna say, you know, thanks,” Ember says with a shrug. “I wouldn’t have even had this match if it wasn’t for you.”

The blonde shakes her head. “You got this title match yourself. You’ve earned it, Ember.”

“Bullshit,” Ember shoots back. “Bayley might have brought me up for the match, but they almost shoved you into it.” She tugs at one of her braids and shrugs. “Thank you for not letting them.”

“Ember, you fucking deserve this,” Charlotte argues. “And I’m glad we’ve helped you get there. And,” she smirks, “I hope you kick Bayley’s ass.”

“Hey!” Bayley pops up. “I thought you were supposed to be my friend.” She crosses her arms and pouts.

Charlotte throws her arm around Ember’s shoulder. “Yeah, but you won that belt unfair and not square, so this woman’s gonna kick your ass and win her first main brand title. She deserves it.”

“Believe what you want, but I’m keeping my title.”

Charlotte shakes her head and chuckles. “Sure, Bay, whatever you say,” she says in the most sarcastic way possible. She doesn’t know the outcome like they do, but she hopes Ember wins. New blood deserves the belt.

* * *

Charlotte spots Becky from across the hallway while she’s getting into her robe for her match with Trish. The redhead’s talking to Natalya, hands moving a mile a minute, and Charlotte smiles.

“Everything okay?” Trish asks as she comes to stand next to Charlotte.

“Uh, yeah,” the taller woman responds. She doesn’t take her eyes off of Becky and takes a small step back as the redhead meets her eyes. She feels Trish put a hand on her arm. Becky’s eyes look like they’re full of fire, of anger, of hurt. 

They haven’t spoken to each other since MITB, when Creative made Charlotte take her belt back. She didn’t  _ want _ it. All she wanted was to take a break. 

She remembers Becky storming at her after she’d lost the belt to Bayley. She remembers the finger poking her sternum. God, all she can remember is Becky telling her to fuck off when she’d reached out her hand in congratulations. She’d smacked her hand away and told her to fuck off.

Bayley found her in their hotel room later that night in tears.

God, the glare she was getting now hurts just enough to unbalance her. Whatever pre-match routine she did before to help herself focus? Well, that’s out the window.

But she has to put on her bravest face because she’s going to fight and hopefully win against one of her idols.

* * *

Charlotte smirks as she leans over Trish, knee digging into her spine. She’s got the woman right where she wants her, about to submit. She’s going to prove to the whole world that she’s the best, that she’s better than all of them.

“Do you give up?” she snarls as she grabs the other blonde by the hair, but doesn't move. “I’ve beaten you fair and square.”

Trish tries to push against her, uses her arms, but Charlotte bears down on her, not letting her get up. “Oh, that’s what you think, darling,” Trish says.

Charlotte’s brows furrow. They had been planning on going for longer than ten minutes, and they haven’t even gotten to her moonsault yet. Her eyes go wide when she hears harsh rock music. It echoes through her ears and the crowd explodes as Lita makes a grand entrance. She looks just as amazing as she used to.

She climbs into the ring without much fanfare and runs right at Charlotte. Damn, her hits hurt. Charlotte falls to the ground, clutching her ribs as they throb. She leans up on her elbow to watch as Trish hugs Lita tightly. In the back of her mind, she remembers a time when that was her and Becky. When she could take the redhead into her arms or they’d celebrate with a victory tea time.

God, she misses her girl.

She stands up, clutching her ribs still, as Lita turns back to the blonde. Her eyes narrow and Charlotte thinks she’s never seen a more deadly sight. Except maybe when Becky gives her the dragon stare in the ring. 

“So, you think you’re the fucking shit?” Lita says, and Charlotte knows they’re gonna have to bleep out probably half of whatever comes out of Lita’s mouth. “You think we’re gonna let you run your fucking mouth without coming out here and kicking your ass?”

Charlotte stumbles over so she’s looking down at Lita, the brunette glaring back up at her, that familiar scowl on her face. The one Charlotte remembers when she watched TV with Reid or when she would come to her dad’s shows. She’d always looked up to Lita, always wanting to be just like her. And now, a top tier wrestler herself, she’s ready to take on her role model. Both of them. 

“Yeah,” she chuckles, “I’m going to beat you _and_ Trish. It’ll be easy.”

“I don’t think so,” Trish says as she stands, links her arm with Lita. “We’ve got moves like you’ve never seen, kid.”

Charlotte’s lip curls up into a snarl and she launches herself at Trish. She steps out of the way and the taller blonde can’t stop herself. She runs right into Lita’s fist. This isn’t the fighting she knows, with practiced choreography and everyone knows the moves so no one fucks up. This feels more like back alley fighting, like it used to be when she was fourteen and trailing behind her dad just to see a glimpse of Lita.

She feels like a sack of flour as she’s tossed around while Lita and Trish work together like they never stopped tag-teaming. It might have been like that for her and Becky when they fought Trish and Nattie, but they hadn’t been allowed to really do any of their old things. Seeing as they were still in this bullshit feud. She was excited for her match with Trish, but not like this.

Trish sets her up, holds an exhausted and in pain Charlotte, for a Litasault.

Lita’s balancing on the edge of the rope, ready to pounce like a jaguar, when  _ Celtic Invasion _ blasts through the speakers. Charlotte’s tired of all this shit. If Becky’s coming out here to help Lita and Trish take her down, “put her in her place,” she’s just going to lay down and take it. She’s giving up. This feud is shit. This match is shit. She just wants a vacation and for her best friend to come back to her.

Lita jumps down from the top of the turnbuckle and Trish lets Charlotte go to falls to her knees. She’s panting, still in full lion mode, but she’s just so goddamn tired. She watches from her knees, ready for Lita to greet Becky and welcome her to the slugfest. She squints when she notices Bayley following her, only to stand at the top of the ramp next to Becky as she surveys the crowd and what’s going on.

“What in the hell is goin’ on ‘ere?” she says in that soothing Irish accent of hers.

Lita shrugs as she leans on the ropes, casual, as she smiles at Becky.

“Just helping a friend.” Lita looks from Charlotte to Becky. “What’re you doing here?”

Charlotte waits, as does the arena, with bated breath, as Becky takes her time to respond. She sniffs, wipes at her nose, and licks her lips, hoisting the RAW belt further up on her shoulder. “Like ya said, Lita,” she drawls, “jus’ helpin’ out a friend.”

She doesn’t give Lita time to react as she throws her belt behind her, which Bayley catches with a smile, and she rushes the ring. She slides in and jumps at Lita. Trish pushes Charlotte away and the taller blonde leans against the side of the ring, panting heavily. She watches as, seamlessly, Trish and Lita try to attack Becky. Two-on-one. But Charlotte knows Becky, knows her moves, knows how fast she is.

She takes a hit from Trish but dodges Lita and the two older superstars fall together.

“Come on.” Charlotte looks up to see Becky holding a hand out to her. “Get up.” She helps Charlotte to her feet and allows her to lean on her shoulder. It feels so familiar Charlotte could cry. Just like she almost did when Becky chose her and gave her that three-second hug. She knew she was going to be chosen, but the hug was unexpected. Just like this was unexpected.

“What are you doing?” Charlotte hisses as she watches Lita and Trish regroup.

“Savin’ yer arse,” Becky says it like it’s obvious. 

“Why?”

Becky smiles at her-- no smirk or cruel laugh in sight-- and chuckles. “Can’t have anyone kickin’ yer arse but me.”

“Thanks...” she swallows her emotions, “Becks.”

Becky holds up her pinkie and Charlotte, through tear-blurred vision, links their pinkies and they do their signature TeaTime handshake. Becky knocks her imaginary cup of tea back before she turns to where Lita and Trish are laughing at them. The redhead cracks her knuckles and smirks.

“Now,” she says as she takes a step forward, “time to show some old-timers how it’s done.”

Charlotte just laughs.

* * *

Later, after the dust has settled, after they won against Lita and Trish, Charlotte and Becky stand in the ring together. Lita and Trish salute them as they head back up the ramp. It’s nice. Becky and Charlotte have talked at length about how much they admired the older woman who inspired them, in different ways, to get into wrestling.

“Wow,” Charlotte says as the crowd chants ‘tea time’ over and over again. “It’s like we never missed a beat.”

Becky runs a hand through her hair. “Feud or not, I know you, Charlie,” she responds. One of the refs hands her a mic. “I wasn’t going to let them tag team you.” She nods her head at Charlotte, who puffs out her chest with pride at what she says next. “You’re one of the best fighters here, Charlotte. I mean, I’m the best, but you’re second best.”

Charlotte can’t help but laugh. “Don’t forget I’ve also kicked your ass a few times.”

“Yeah, whatever, Charlotte.” She waves it off like it’s nothing, but Charlotte can see her smile grow. “Now, I got a title to win, but thanks for the warmup.” She slides out of the ring and Charlotte follows. She almost breaks down when Becky turns around and, careful of her bruised ribs, helps her down. The crowd’s still cheering when Charlotte grabs Becky’s arm in the middle of the ramp.

“Becky.”

“What?”

“I’m coming with you?”

“To my match?”

Charlotte nods. “Can’t let anyone kicking your ass but me.”

Becky laughs all the way back up the ramp.

**Author's Note:**

> LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!!


End file.
